


Care

by SoftnSleepy



Category: King of Fighters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftnSleepy/pseuds/SoftnSleepy
Summary: I had this prompt at like... 1a.m and I had to write it out. Reader gets hurt for a reason that isn't disclosed and Iori decides to help.
Relationships: Iori Yagami/reader
Kudos: 5





	Care

You didn't think that a man like him was capable of kind acts until last night. You didn't know about his living conditions until last night either and you weren't sure if you felt bad for him or if you were okay with it. You didn't know anything about this man and yet, he brought you into his home because... because why?

You laid on a couch that you could only assume was used every so often due to how uncomfortable it was, wrapped up in a rather warm blanket, worn with use. You bit back a yelp as you tried to sit up, a shooting pain zapped right through your leg. That must be why you were here. 

It was eerily quiet, you realized. Was he still asleep? You would have already checked if it wasn't for your leg, now at a dull throb. The more you woke up, the more you took in your surroundings. He didn't have much, but it must have been enough for him. By no means was this place nice, even if it did offer a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a bedroom. The kitchen was small and only had a refrigerator, sink, microwave, oven, stove, a couple cupboards, and what you could assume was a poor excuse for a counter. Where was the table? Here in the living room was this couch, a window that didn't bring in a whole lot of light, and a radio. No TV, no coffee tables or chairs... you realized that one of his jackets was draped over the other arm of the couch where your feet are. 

The walls didn't harbor many decorations either. A couple of art pieces were hung, but those from what you can assume came with the apartment. This space was far too small to be a home, and suggesting that you heard a few doors close from outside hinted at such. 

You heard the door click and it swung open. He was wet- you saw how his hair clung to his face and the water droplets rolled off of him- off of his jacket that he took off, hanging it up on some hooks not far from the door. He discarded his boots with ease and looked at you. Red eyes simmering like warm embers. "You're awake." His baritone voice sent a shiver down your spine. You wondered if everyone who he came into contact with ever felt unease around him.

He walked over to you and placed down a bag of things he got as he knelt down. You flinched when he pulled back the blanket. The dull pain turned into a sting as the cold air hit it. What you saw was a large burn from your knee down to your foot. He gently touched it and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Don't get in the way again." He sighed. He knew you weren't comfortable. His touch was gentle despite his harsh tone. 

You couldn't recall what happened, but it must have involved him and fire? Maybe that's what it was. How else would you get a burn like this? The events of the night before was a blur. You were out with your friends, at a live performance, and a fight broke out. 

You looked at the man in front of you in hopes that seeing him would job your memory more. Ufortunately, nothing happened. He just caught you staring. "What." He made eye contact with you, pausing for a moment. When you didnt say aything he focused back on your wound and applied a cold substance. It stung a lot. "Ow!" You hissed, retracting your leg. He had cat like reflexes though, grabbing your leg and putting it back where it was and holding it down with force. He didnt say anything but let out an annoyed grunt. 

He tend to your wound in silence. There wasnt much for sound at all besides the occasional "ow!" Or hisses from you. It surprised you, really. He throughly cleaned the wound, wrapped closely woven gauze around your leg, and taped it together. He knew what he was doing.

You were going to ask him about how, but decided to thank him. "Iori?" 

He gathered the items, stood up, and looked at you. Was he annoyed? Maybe that was just his general expression. 

You flinched, but managed an obligated smile. "Thank you." 

He just shrugged and went to go put the items elsewhere. Soon enough, he spoke up. "I'll come check on it in awhile." 

You smiled to yourself. Even if he didn't show it, he cared about you.


End file.
